


To The Skies

by werebird



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Dom/sub Undertones, Gentle Sex, M/M, Praise Kink, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6513817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werebird/pseuds/werebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have to take a shower,” James says. He inhales, makes the mental choice to do this right, by any means and in every way. He's going to be the best thing Harry's ever experienced. Or at least he'll try.<br/>“You can come with me or go upstairs, take off your clothes and lie on the bed.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Skies

**Author's Note:**

> Nobody knows what they're doing including me.

“Harry?” James is taken aback by the surprise of who he finds late on a Friday night on his door steps. Harry looks – , he looks small. Which probably shouldn't be the first thing that's coming to James' mind because he has seen Harry grow up. He has seen him grow tall and more masculine within the past few years. But today he reminds him more of the nineteen-year-old boy than the twenty-two-year old man he's used to by now.

“James,” Harry greets him and throws a nervous glance behind him before he meets James' eyes. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure,” James says and steps aside. He thought he'd be spending the evening with a couple of beers and a mediocre action movie, but it doesn't seem like this is going to happen now.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” Harry apologizes. They're standing awkwardly in the hallway now. It's not as if this place is unfamiliar to Harry. He's been here many times. But he never showed up this late or unannounced.

“Don't worry,” James assures him. “Can I get you a beer? Water? Anything?”

“You know, Ben told me I could come over. When, you know? 'Cause he's out of town.” Harry holds his gaze all those fifteen seconds it takes for James' brain to make the connection.

“Oh,” he says when he finally realizes why Harry is here. “And you're?” he asks, not sure of how to actually do this. “Like right now?”

“I've been under a lot of stress,” Harry says tentatively yet with an undertone of determination. “With the movie starting to shoot soon. I really can't wait for Ben to return.”

James takes a deep breath. Then another. He's stalling, contemplating, trying to get himself together. Moments like these need preparation. James needs preparation. He needs time and space. But seeing Harry like this renders him helpless. His rational thoughts are completely outdrowned by the overwhelming urge to be exactly what Harry needs. Now and any other time.

“You know what,” Harry interrupts. “This was a bad idea. I'm just going to-”

“Don't leave,” James says,- gently, because he's not about barking out commands. The thought of Harry leaving is somehow more terrifying to him than his own insecurity. “It was the right thing to come here. I just gotta be honest with you, Harry,” James goes on, relieved that Harry hasn't moved yet. “I don't do this a lot. I actually haven't done this myself at all.”

He's over at Ben's a lot. They are great friends and he has watched him taking care of Harry a lot. He can't even remember how it all started, or when, butsomewhere along the line, boundaries had just crumbled down between the three of them. Harry on his knees, Harry in between Ben's legs. Harry's eyes closed, his eyes on Ben, his eyes on James. Harry toned down. Harry obedient. Harry being-, good.

But he's always been an observer. He had only participated in some very harmless stuff. Like praising Harry for letting him watch or for being quiet the whole night while Ben and him were caught up in an intense game of pool. Running his hands through Harry's hair or down his shoulders as he tries his best to please Ben in any way possible. It's all he's ever dared to do. To think of.

“I trust you,” Harry just says, interrupting James' thoughts. “I wouldn't be here, if I didn't. I'm not that, you know, desperate. Just because I let you guys do this doesn't mean I can't walk at any time.”

James wasn't really prepared for this level of contempt in Harry's voice. James guesses, it's because Harry's afraid they'll start to think of him as a better toy eventually. It's just another reminder that none of them really know what they're doing. And that they should probably stop. James should probably stop. If only he had the strength to do so.

“I know that,” James tells him.  _I know that and I am scared one day you will -_ is what he doesn't tell him. He hopes Harry can hear the sincerity in his tone nonetheless.

Harry nods absently. The air around them feels thick and James suddenly feels sweaty and about five pounds heavier.

“I have to take a shower,” James says. He has to get rid of his nervousness, his doubts. He inhales, makes the mental choice to do this right, by any means and in every way. He's going to be the best thing Harry's ever experienced. Or at least he'll try.

James straightens his back, exhales and takes one step towards Harry. Harry's grown taller than him and it feels somewhat twisted that he has to look down on James, face filled with submission.James tucks his hair behind his ear and lets his fingers slide through Harry's curls before he shoves his hand back deep down into the pocket of his jeans. The feeling of being allowed to touch Harry like this, to be looked at by Harry like this, feels so foreign and almost forbidden that he can't let his hands run free yet.

“You can come with me or go upstairs, take off your clothes and lie on the bed.”

“I want to come with you,” Harry says right away. It makes James feel slightly proud that Harry chose his company over the option of being alone.

James leads him up the stairs. They're not touching yet. Harry just silently follows him into the bathroom. James wordlessly starts to unbutton Harry's shirt and when Harry doesn't protest, he helps him getting completely naked. He's seen Harry's nude body so many times but he has never seen him like this. Never seen him like this when it has been just the two of them.

Harry's been in California for months now, tanned skin and black tattoos, sun-kissed hair washed out from the salt water of the Pacific ocean. Long legs and slim hips. Soft around the edges. He's beautiful. Just as he's ever been.

James puts Harry in the shower first before he takes off his own clothes. He's lived in LA for years but his skin is paler than Harry's and his body is so different too. From Harry's and Ben's. He's not as muscular, not as strong and toned, and he wonders if that is why he's always been hesitant to join their games more intimately. Does Harry even want him this close when he's not going to be as good as Ben.

Putting his doubts aside, James makes another decision. He's not going to try imitating Ben. He's not going to try to replay any of their scenes. He wouldn't succeed anyway. All he can do, is do it his way.

When he gets in the shower, too, their skin touches under the warm stream of the shower. Harry looks at him shyly. A look so unfamiliar to James that he has to stare for a moment. They have been close. They have kissed each other, hugged each other, have spend nights at each other's side, but this feels different. They won't be able to hide behind jokes or a third person. They won't be able to laugh it off or move on. Right now, James doesn't know why he'd ever wanted to do that anyway.

Harry places a tentative hand on James stomach. Big hand splayed on the curve of his tummy. Harry's eyes are focused on his own fingers as they run along the skin, feeling the soft flesh and the warmth of his body. James shudders under the touch.

“Is this okay?” Harry asks.

James nods. How can any of Harry's touches not be okay. He watches a few water pearls catch on Harry's eyelashes, the tip of his nose and his bottom lip. James swallows. Suddenly suffering from a dry throat and and an unyielding thirst.

He closes the distance between them, corners Harry against the wall and pushes his body against him. Harry groans as he feels the pressure of James' body against him before James can kiss those few drops and his moans straight from his lips.

Harry lets him. Lets James patiently suck on his bottom lip, lets him taste every last patch of skin before James lays his palm against Harry's cheek and uses his thumb to tip Harry's chin down gently. Harry obliges, opens his mouth and lets James lick inside.

Harry's breath is coming faster and he whines deep in his throat as James savors the touch of their tongues and the slippery heat of Harry's mouth.

They kiss for long minutes while James feels his cock hardening. He's been feeling it under his skin since Harry had made it clear why he came over. Excitement, arousal, want.

He sneaks a hand between them to see how full Harry's cock has gotten. When his finger brush along his length, Harry whines once more and James feels proud again because he did that. He made Harry stand this hard. He made Harry let out all these noises. With nothing but the promises he could fit into a single kiss.

“You're so good, babe,” James says. “I'm so lucky to have you here. Beautiful boy. Beautiful big, fat cock hard and leaking,” he whispers into Harry's ear. “I want you to put your hand on it. Stroke it. Nice and slow, while I finish my shower.”  
  


Harry doesn't give him a proper answer. He just does as he's told and puts his hand around his cock, playing with himself as James steps back into the stream and grabs one of the shampoo bottles from the rack.

He takes his time. Lets the warm water relax his muscles and mind so he's got some more minutes to think. To imagine. How this night should go. He knows this is not about sex. That the sex is just a means to an end. That neither of them should allow themselves to be conditioned to believe they can only find what they're looking for a sexual context. But until they find a way to do, denying themselves this isn't a valid option either.

He glances at Harry's crotch every now and then, watches the foreskin drag back and forth across the head of Harry's dick. It's nice. It's nice and fascinating. Harry's palm fits just right around his length and James thinks about whether he should let Harry wank him off later. Watch his Hand wrap around his own dick. See just how well it would fit too.

When James is done, he tells Harry to keep his hand on his dick while he dries them off and guides him into the bedroom afterwards. Harry's skin feels even softer now and he doesn't radiate off as much tension as he did before. Maybe this would be another chance to stop. To ask Harry to leave and then forget all about it. But James craves more.

“Up you go,” James tells him, gesturing to the huge bed in front of them. “Face down, ass up,” James says and flinches right after. He's promised himself not half an hour ago to stay clear of commands. But he knows that Harry knows this one better than anything else. Knows he'll react to it. And the response is immediate as Harry walks towards the bed.

“And no more touching yourself,” James adds.

Harry climbs on the bed and spreads his legs to present himself just like James has seen him do a million times with Ben. He presses his face into the pillow and makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a purr. It's a beautiful sight but it awakens a strange feeling of guilt inside of James. The fact that it's only him now. The lone spectator. Shameless and in awe.

“Lets see what we've got here,” James says quietly and moves closer. He uses both his hands to open Harry's cheeks even though Harry had put himself on display well enough by spreading is knees. But he wants to be involved now, rather than just watching the scene in front of him unfold. It's unfamiliar, every step, every movement. He's never been this close to Harry's core before. Has never seen his own hands so demanding on Harry's body.

“How long haven't you been fucked, Harry?” James asks. He doesn't move his hands, doesn't touch him yet, not where he knows Harry wants it. He doesn't know if he's ready yet to cross that line. “Ben's been gone for two weeks.”

Harry whimpers, high-pitched and broken, and James figures it had probably been longer than that.

“Beautiful,” James says at the sight of Harry's clenching hole. “You're not going to move, right?” he asks, not threatening, just reassuring. Harry knows his rules. James is not going to change his set just for one night. Who knows if there will ever be a second time. This is an emergency after all and James can't say if Harry will come back regularly. He doesn't even know if he'd be ready for it. If he could take another night like this. They'll need to figure it out later. Together. In case Harry will ever return. “You're gonna hold still, right?” he asks once more, calm and controlled.

Harry hums which James counts a win because Harry really does trust him. Unconditionally. And he seems to be doing just fine judging by the ways he closes his eyes and snuggles into the pillow beneath him.

“I'm just going to let you get used to it, okay?” he says. It's not just for Harry's benefit but for his own. To walk himself through it. Talk himself through it. Step after step. “Get used to me.”

He runs one hand up Harry's back, lets him get used to the feeling, to James' skin on his own, lets him get used to the hand that's going to make him feel safe and protected.

“You're perfect, Harry,” he tells him, stroking over the bare skin. “You're so beautiful.”

Harry shivers but James won't retreat. He lets his palm wander over Harry's shoulders and back, his ass, lets his hand wander in between his legs, the insides of his thighs and even cradles Harry's balls for a second.

“So heavy,” he comments as he weighs them in his hand. “So full. So perfect.”

Harry whines but holds still. Just like he's supposed to. James moves his hands back over Harry's cheeks. He settles between Harry's legs on his knees and kisses Harry on his tailbone.

“Such a good boy. Holding still. I'm going to tell Ben just how good you were. Fucking amazing.” He massages Harry's ass, spreading him open from time to time, breathing against Harry's hole.

“Hey,” James says softly. He doesn't want to tell Harry off in an angry tone, he doesn't want to make him feel as if punishment was on the table. Because it's not. That's really not something James feels up to this time. “Don't clench, baby. Just relax.”

Harry does as he's told. Again without much delay and it gives James a rush of power as he sees his rim loosening slightly. James swallows hard, knowing how wide it had been stretched so many times before. Something he probably shouldn't know. It wasn't just the times he'd watched. It was also the times Ben told him about. Just as shameless.

“I'm so glad you came here today, Harry. I never dared to even dream about this. You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

He gently presses a finger against Harry's pucker, just feeling the tightness and the heat.

“God,” James breathes, because this must be heaven. “It's so soft and ready. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to want me,” he admits quietly and unashamed. Because Harry is certainly not the only one that feels safe around the other. James feels safe too. He feels as if he's falling in place just like Harry. As if this had always been in him. As if this was how he belonged to Harry.

“Always wanted you,” Harry says barely audible. “That's why we always invited you over. Wanted you to see me like this. Wanted you to join. To have me.”

James knows that Harry is not really allowed to talk. He's allowed to voice his pleasure or safeword out, but that's about it. He's not going to remind him though. He's going to let it slide because he actually needed to hear from Harry that this was not just about being desperate and Ben not being in town. That this was about him, too. He was wanted.

“Is that so?” James asks and uses a bit more pressure on Harry's pucker. It's a warning to not let all the other rules fall as well, but it's also meant as a reward for Harry to make James feel a lot more confident. Only in their world could punishment and reward go so closely together.

“Yeah,” Harry moans. “Wanted you since forever.”

James groans at Harry's words as if they were hands that touched him in a way that offered relief. Because hearing them feels like permission. To go ahead. To keep going. To keep Harry.

“Going to make you feel so good, Harry,” James promises. “Going to give you everything you need. And want.” he adds. He knows he can't spend forever just looking at Harry just feeling him from the outside. Harry's used to the position he's in and it's arguably one of the more comfortable ones. But it puts a lot of strain onto Harry's shoulders and back which is still a weak spot.

“Wish I could take you from behind,” James rambles on. “Just like this.” He takes himself in hand and rubs the head of his cock against Harry's rim. Not with any pressure. He just wants him to feel. “Fuck you and all you can do it take it. You would, wouldn't you? My beautiful boy.”

Harry nods but otherwise stays silent, obeying the rules. If it were up to James, he'd set some new rules. Yes, Harry being quiet helps him focusing on other things and spares him the embarrassment of answering some very rhetorical yet very explicit questions Ben normally asks him while being displayed like this. But James loves Harry's voice, the flirty remarks, the coy tone. It's all part of his charm.

“Yeah, you would. You're just too good to be true.” 

Harry's dry, of course, and James wouldn't start opening him up just with the slightest film of precome and only a bit of saliva because his throat and mouth feel just as dry. “I'm going to get the lube. You can turn around. I want to see your beautiful face when I get to put my cock in you.”

Harry settles on his back while James grabs lube and condoms. He wants Harry to feel safe and not to worry about anything, so he won't even put barebacking up for discussion.

“Give me your hand,” James tells him and then pumps a bit of lube into Harry's palm. “You're going to open yourself up for me. Show me how well you do it. Show me how much you want me.”

Harry whimpers at that, coats his fingers with the slippery liquid and reaches between his legs.

“Such pretty hands,” James comments. “Such a pretty hole.”

Harry circles his rim for a moment before he pushes the tip of one finger inside.

“I watched you do this so often,” James says. “But not like this, right? This is just for me, right?”

Again, Harry just nods, eyes still closed as he focuses on his hand instead of voicing answers James should already know the answer to.

“Yeah, just for me. Gorgeous little ass.”

Harry carefully adds a second finger and throws his head back at the stretch.

“Careful, baby. Don't hurt yourself.” James kisses his knee and puts a hand around his ankle. “I'm right here, you don't have to hurry.”

Harry works himself open, slowly, carefully and James is one hundred percent sure he knows exactly what do to to give James the view of a lifetime. Even though James enjoys every second of it, even though it only increases his excitement, he waits patiently. He grounds himself by touching Harry's thighs and watching Harry's expression switch between concentration, pleasure and slight despair.

He's not able to go deep, not doing it himself, with no help whatsoever and he doesn't try anyway. He knows he'll get to be filled soon enough. So Harry just fingers his muscle loose.

It's mesmerizing. And the only thing that increases faster than James' arousal is his admiration for the person in front of him. It's cliché but seeing Harry's fingertips play with his rim, slippery and uncoordinated makes his mouth water.

"I could look at this all day." He lets all of his thoughts fall out of his mouth because there's literally nothing he wants to hide from Harry ever.

"Does it feel good, baby? Do you feel how soft you are? Inside and out?"

He's going to open Harry up one day. If he'll ever come back. And he'll take his time to discover ever last bit of Harry's body he can reach. Right now, he wants to see what Harry likes doing to himself.

"Show me how loose you've gotten yourself already," James tells him with a reassuring smile. "Let me see how good you are."

Harry shoves three fingers inside, as deep as they go, and then pulls them out again quickly, leaving his hole open and exposed.

If his eyes weren't glued to the sight right in front of him, James is sure they would have rolled back painfully just as his mouth drops open and lets out a groan he's been holding in for too long.

"I'm going to get ready, okay? You've been so good to me, now I'm going to be so good to you."

James rolls the condom over his length with shaking fingers and applies more lube.

"I can't wait to get inside you, Harry. You have no idea how much I want you right now. You're so good."

Harry has his eyes shut tight and his face turned to the side. James gets it. Yet, there is a part of him that knows he can't do this alone. Not this time. The first time. James moves a little closer, spreads Harry's knees just a little further with gentle hand to get in between and kisses Harry's butterfly tattoo on his stomach.

“Look at me baby,” James says, giving in to his urge to connect with Harry. “Please, look at me.”

It's there instantly as soon as Harry complies and they make eye contact. A link, a spark, a bond.

"Do you want my cock inside you," James mumbles in between the kisses he places on Harry's skin. "Do you want me to stretch you some more?"

Harry nods. James can feel the trust and need but Harry still looks a little distressed. His eyebrows are drawn together and his jaw is tense.

"Don't be scared, baby," James tries to soothe his expression. "I won't hurt you. I'm going to make you feel so good. I'll make sure you get everything you need."

He teases Harry's rim with the head of his cock again, rubbing against the skin and muscle without any real pressure.

Harry waits him out patiently. Expression unchanged.

But when James pushes in, he's not sure who falls apart first - him or Harry.

His cockhead is much bigger than the shaft so even though Harry had worked himself loose so well, he can still feel the tight stretch as James is suddenly engulfed by Harry's heat.

Relief is written all over Harry's face, paired with such a raw open expression and thankfulness in his eyes that James wonders if his role still allows for him to cry.

He goes slow. He has to. He's so close just from watching Harry finger his rim and overwhelmed by emotions that he has to hold himself back, move forward only carefully to spare Harry and himself a moment where everything might be too much. He wants it too though. Wants to feel every second of it.

"You feel so good Harry. Better than anything I've felt before."

Harry breathes hard, adjusting to the stretch and the unfamiliar weight of James above him. James has himself propped up on his elbows but it's not like he can bend his body in any way that would prevent his belly from resting on Harry's body and his broader hips from pushing Harry's legs apart.

Harry doesn't seem to mind though. He wraps his arms around James, digging his fingers into his shoulders, and even tentatively lays put one leg up, across James' ass, heel resting on his thigh. Harry presses him down and deeper with the the back of his knee.

"Almost there baby," James whispers into Harry's ear. "Got you so full right? You're so good, Harry. So tight and soft and not even clenching around me. So good for me, love."

"More," Harry pants, closing his eyes once more. It's for the best because James doubts he could resist his pleading eyes. Dealing with his begging tone is almost too much for him. "More, please. Harder."

"Shh," James hushes lips grazing along Harry's neck. "We're going slow today."

Harry shakes his head, but obeys the rule of silence again. Maybe it's not even a conscious obedience. Maybe he's just as unable to deny James as it's the other way around.

James doesn't move in Harry even after he's all the way inside. He just lets himself experience the feeling of being inside Harry. Every once in a while he presses his hips against Harry's to make him tighten around him, but that's about it.

Ben never goes slow. James knows. And he knows it's what Harry likes. Someone being rough with him, treating him like something that won't break and won't give in. It gives him a sense of power in a world where people always claim to know what's best for him.

But James can't do it though. It's not who he is. The only way he can take care of Harry is treating him like he's valuable, wanted and beyond compare.

"You can do it, Harry," he says encouragingly but gently. "You've been so good, so perfect. You can go slow. I'm keeping you safe, you hear me? I'm right here. You can let go. Relax."

It takes a good few minutes before Harry noticeably relaxes. He goes pliant under James, handing himself over to be treated with care. And patience. Even though he might detest it more than any humiliating thing James could do to him.

His breaths come slower and turn deeper and his grip on James' cock loosens again.

By the time James pulls back for the first time, Harry openly sobs and weeps all while James tells him how proud he is. And how much he loves Harry for being good.

"So brave, baby," James adds and kisses Harry's lips this time. It still feels foreign. The permission of being close, of being in control, the intimacy and unfamiliar touch. "Giving in like this. So fucking brave. Now let me take care of you."

He pushes back, all the way in, just as slow. And not once does he change the pace. Steady, calm, gentle. There's no way his movements would even count as thrusts but Harry takes it. Relaxes more and more with every time James drags his cock in and out of Harry.

He only pulls out once. All the way, to take a look at Harry's loose hole. He thumbs at it once, twice, but Harry's muscle doesn't react to the touch. The only part of Harry that isn't relaxed down to its core is his cock that still stands hard and strong between Harry's pliant legs. When he enters Harry for the second time, Harry lets out a shuddering breath and for the first time puts into words how he feels.

"Don't stop," he tells him. "Don't ever stop. Don't leave."

James keeps on fucking him in the most unhurried way known to either him or Harry. And Harry lets him. He doesn't complain again. Instead he moans and whines while James kisses every patch of skin he can get his lips on.

"You're so amazing, baby. So patient. Letting me treat you right. This is how you should always be fucked, Harry. Deep and slow. For as long as you need." James feels the sweat on his back, neck and forehead, the effort and exhaustion of holding back while holding himself up.

It's James who comes first. The slow burning friction of Harry's body around his cock eventually coaxes the orgasm out of him. It doesn't feel like falling over the edge at all. It doesn't feel like reaching a limit and exploding once it's crossed. It feels as if Harry's ease is seeping into him, filling him and fulfilling him as he simple lets the sensation run through his body.

Harry can tell. The moment James spills inside of him and he immediatly clings to him even harder, terrified of the loss that'll follow.

"Don't worry," James breathes, lost somewhere between the restraints of his own skin and Harry's body that holds him close, holds him in. "Not going to leave you like this."

He pulls out carefully, wishing he didn't have to, but knowing it's inevitable. And just as slow before, he inserts two fingers into Harry's wrung out hole. He uses his free hand to stroke Harry's cock just as gentle as he's rocked inside him before.

He doesn't thrust his fingers inside either, just curls them every now and then to give Harry some pressure on the right spots.

"So good, baby" James tells him, eyes darting back and forth between his fingers in and wrapped around Harry, and Harry's face and eyes. "Doing so good. You can come for me. You can let go. You're so beautiful, Harry. Let me see how pretty you are when you come all over my hand. Please, let me watch while you forget all about the stress, all about the pain. Let me make you forget."

Witnessing Harry reach his orgasm and coming in thick spurts over his stomach and James' hand might just be better than his own climax just a few moments ago.

James just stares for a long time, before he gets up to clean himself first and then Harry. He doesn't want him to get cold. Doesn't want him to start feeling icky, gross, uncomfortable. He only wants him to feel good.

"Stay here for the night," James says upon seeing how tired Harry is after and how he can barely keep his eyes open. "I'm not going to let you go. I'll hold you, okay? At least for a while? Please stay."

Harry answers by reaching out for James with one arm and using the other to pull the blanket over his naked body. A smile on his lips and the promise of a kiss in his open palm.

  
  



End file.
